


We Won’t Say Our Goodbyes

by booksnchocolate



Category: Bandom, Marianas Trench, Real Person Fiction
Genre: :D, Cuddles, Fluff, Hugs, M/M, Relationship Issues, Schmoop, a bit of angst, but then hugs!!, happiness, hugs make everything better, yay fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-10
Updated: 2013-10-10
Packaged: 2017-12-29 01:22:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/999193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booksnchocolate/pseuds/booksnchocolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Your reason for coming to Vancouver?” the customs officer asked, voice tinny through the thick Plexiglas partition. Matt swallowed. “I’m coming home from a trip.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Won’t Say Our Goodbyes

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So I hate myself a little for getting into bandom, but I can’t deny that this is the most prolific I’ve ever been. What is my life? Feel free to message me for concrit, etc. Title from OneRepublic’s “All we are”. Originally posted at FYJM.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction.

“Attention, passengers. We have touched down in Vancouver, Canada. Local time is 9:46pm. The temperature is 10 degrees Celcius. On behalf of myself, the co-pilot, and the rest of the crew, I’d like to bid you farewell. Once again, thank you for traveling with Air Canada; enjoy your stay in Vancouver, and hope to see you soon aboard one of our flights. _Attention passag_ _èr_ _es_. _Nous sommes arriv és à Vancouver…”_  
  
Matt struggled out of his seat amidst the press of passengers on the Boeing 747. He grabbed his carryon and slung the backpack onto his shoulder, narrowly avoiding the face of an elderly lady emerging from the row behind him. He stood on shaky legs, cramped after the eleven-hour flight, and shot one last glance at his seat, checking for any missed items. Satisfied that he had everything, he turned and inched his way up the line to the exit.  
  
“Have a good evening,” the flight attendant nodded at him. Matt barely heard her, too caught up in the buzz of his own thoughts. Touchdown in Vancouver. He was almost there. He stumbled out of the cockpit and up the gangplank, lightheaded under the fluorescent lights. He followed the trail of people out through the pre-boarding area into the airport complex, feeling a comforting sense of familiarity seeing English once again as the main language on the various posters and signs that plastered the walls. He stood at a baggage carousel and waited for his luggage in a daze, the sleep deprivation of the past few days slowly taking its toll. Smothering a huge yawn, Matt leaned down to snag his luggage, hefting the all-too-familiar suitcase off the rack. _It’ll be so nice to use actual drawers soon_ , he thought. _I can’t wait until -_ _don’t go there_ , he reminded himself. It would happen soon enough. Taking a deep breath to clear his head, Matt strode out of the baggage collection area, down a short hallway, and through a panel of sliding glass doors.  
  
Excitement bubbled in his veins as he walked, each step taking him closer to – _don’t think about it_. He forced the thought down as he passed through customs.  
  
“Your reason for coming to Vancouver?” the customs officer asked, voice tinny through the thick Plexiglas partition.  
  
Matt swallowed. “I’m coming home from a trip.”  
  
The officer nodded and stamped his passport. “Have a good night.”  
  
“Yeah, thanks,” Matt said, stuffing his documents back into his jacket and pulling his suitcase away.  
  
He walked down another long hallway to a final set of transparent sliding doors, his heartbeat picking up with every step. This was it, these doors were the last barrier between him and – _but what if he’s not there?_ Matt stumbled, struck by a cold wave of fear. “Fuck,” he breathed, righting himself. He was maybe ten paces from the doors. He scrubbed his hands roughly over his face, trying to work past the irrational panic that threatened to submerge him.  
  
“Calm the fuck down, Webb,” he muttered to himself. He straightened up and tugged once, twice at his jacket. _Deep breaths,_ he reminded himself. _It’s not a show, it’s not a press conference, it’s just – him._  
  
Taking one last breath, like a drowning man gasping for air before the next swell takes him under, Matt gripped the handle of his suitcase and started toward the doors. His heart was in his throat as he stepped through; he was half-worried he might throw up from nerves. The adrenaline flooding his system made him feel as though he were floating; and yet, each step he took felt heavy, like he was marching to his doom. Matt moved slowly into the Arrivals area, scanning the sea of joyous reunions for a familiar face. Couples and families were hugging and crying around him, but he paid them no attention; there was only one person he wanted to see.  
  
 _Where is he?_  
  
Then, Matt saw him. Hunched at the back of the crowd in a ratty grey hoodie, worn jeans, and scuffed pink boat shoes. The man’s face was obscured by giant aviators; they were redundant in the airport, but Matt would know those stupid things anywhere. His heart suddenly felt so light, he thought it might burst from his chest.  
  
 _Josh._  
  
Matt all but skipped through the rest of the crowd, weaving through the straggling passengers. He was thankful that he hadn’t brought his guitar so there was no telltale case to attract notice from fans. Not that he didn’t appreciate them, but now was not the time. He couldn’t move fast enough to get to Josh.  
  
Time seemed to slow down as Matt moved forward; his breath came short and shallow in his chest. And then –  
  
“Hey, Matty.”  
  
Josh’s voice, Josh saying his name for the first time in months – the sound that came out of Matt’s mouth in response wasn’t even human. He dropped his luggage and opened his arms to finally, _finally_ hold Josh after so long apart -  
  
“You look like shit,” Josh continued, sidestepping him.  
  
Matt grimaced and stopped in his tracks. He imagined how he must look: hair greasy and unwashed from days on the move; clothes worn and wrinkled from camping out on floors and benches; bags under his eyes from lack of sleep. He definitely wasn’t at his best; but that didn’t mean he needed reminding of the fact, and something soured in Matt’s gut at Josh’s words.  
  
“You don’t look much better,” he replied, and it was true. Up close, Josh’s skin looked pale, almost sickly; his full lips were bitten and chapped. Matt reached to remove his glasses, suddenly unaccountably offended by their presence blocking Josh’s beautiful eyes, but Josh shifted away from him again.  
  
“Don’t.”  
  
Matt’s throat was abruptly tight; his eyes were stinging and damn it, this was not how he’d imagined their reunion going. “Josh, look at me, _please_.”  
  
Something in his tone must have tipped Josh off, because the singer sighed and relented, removing his sunglasses. “Happy?” he asked.  
  
But Matt licked his lips and looked away. “This – this isn’t how I imagined this going,” he said in a small voice.  
  
Josh snorted. “Yeah, well, that sucks.” His tone was uncharacteristically cold and callous.  
  
“What? Josh, what’s up with you?”  
  
“Nothing,” Josh said in a tight voice. He grabbed the handle of Matt’s suitcase and turned to the exit. “Let’s go.”  
  
“Josh! Wait, dude…” But Josh was already walking away.  
  
The ride back was painfully silent. Josh kept his gaze on the road and gripped the steering wheel so hard it creaked. For his part, Matt stared out at the streetlights as they passed, white and gold flashing by endlessly on the darkened streets. He could initiate conversation, he knew, but if Josh wasn’t talking then damned if he would.  
  
At last, they pulled up to the house. Matt felt something warm and soft settle in his bones as they rolled to a stop in the driveway. Almost home. The feeling was soured, though, by Josh’s utter silence as they unloaded the luggage and struggled to the front door.  
  
“Leave it,” Josh said brusquely, dumping the suitcase on the floor and kicking off his shoes, leaving Matt to trail after him with the rest of the luggage.  
  
“Dude, it’s my stuff, I think I have some say in what happens to it.”  
  
“Fine,” Josh’s disembodied voice came from the kitchen. “Whatever.”  
  
“What’s your problem?” Matt demanded, striding over to join him. “You’re acting like – like you don’t want me to be here.” Fuck, he couldn’t stop his voice from cracking.  
  
“It’s – it’s not that,” Josh said. “I just…. Forget it.”  
  
“The fuck? You can’t just act like this and then tell me to ‘forget it’, Josh!”  
  
Josh slammed his hand on the countertop, his back to Matt. “Maybe it’s none of your business!”  
  
Matt did a double-take. “How? How is it not my business? You’re obviously upset about something and-“  
  
“God, would you just let it go already?!”  
  
Josh’s voice was edging on hysteria and Matt couldn’t stand it anymore. He snapped. “Dude, I’ve been awake for 43 hours straight. All I want to do is brush my teeth, change, and go to bed with you there for the first time in three months. And I can’t do that if you’re acting like a space cadet – and, yes, if something is upsetting you, it really fucking is my business. So talk to me.”  
  
There was a pause, but Matt was determined to wait until Josh spoke.  
  
“I – I…” Josh trailed off, voice wavering and uncertain.  
  
Matt took a half step forward and sighed. “Josh…”  
  
“You don’t know what it’s like,” Josh burst forth vehemently. His back was to Matt but his shoulders were rigid with tension. “When you’re gone, it’s – it’s –“  
  
“It’s what?” Matt asked, heart in his throat. He was tired, so tired, but Josh needed him here, needed him to be on top of his game. He straightened his shoulders and locked his knees, refusing to yield to the desire to sleep. Not yet, not now, not with Josh twitching and vulnerable and refusing to look at him. “What is it?”  
  
There was no reply. “You can tell me, Josh.”  
  
“I-“ Josh took a deep, shuddering breath; he was clutching the countertop so hard his knuckles were white. “I feel unstable. Without you.”  
  
Matt opened his mouth but no words came out. It felt like he’d been punched in the throat. “Are – Josh, are you okay?” He didn’t bother to hide the edge of panic in his voice.  
  
“I – no, I haven’t, I haven’t done anything,” Josh said in a rush. Matt tried to be comforted by that.  
  
“But it’s – when you’re not here, it’s so much easier to get l-lost in my mind. I have, I have these thoughts and I know they’re irrational and stupid or whatever, but I c-c-can’tcan’t help them, like, what if you’re gone forever, what if something happens to you, what if… what if you just have enough of me and leave?”  
  
Matt opened his mouth to protest but Josh kept going. “I get – I get so desperate when you’re not around. It’s like I go crazy and I can only think of the worst things and I, I need you back, Matty.” Josh still didn’t face him, but his next words almost brought Matt to his knees.  
  
“It’s not like the drugs because – because I could choose to leave them, and I did, but. But you, you can choose to leave _me_ , and I can’t do anything about it and you’re the best thing in my life, Matt, and you could choose to leave me-“ he broke off in an anguished gasp. “And I can’t stand it, I can’t fucking stand it, cause I know you wouldn’t just leave, not like that, I know, but I can’t help thinking what if… and it’s – it’s – I just can’t do it, Matty. I’m so sorry.”  
  
“What – what are you saying, Josh?” The words fell from numb lips.  
  
“I don’t know,” Josh admitted hoarsely. “I don’t know anything except I need you so much it scares me. I can’t deal when you’re gone.”  
  
Matt let out a shaky breath, completely overwhelmed by the raw honesty he could hear in Josh’s voice. “Josh, I – I don’t know what to say.” He could feel himself trembling, from the exhaustion or the conversation, he couldn’t say.  
  
“I hate it,” Josh whispered. “I hate how I get when you’re gone. I get so scared, and I hate it.”  
  
“Josh,” Matt said, his own voice choked and raw, “I – you know I’ll never leave you. Never, got it? And it’s – I mean, if you think I don’t miss you just as much when we’re apart, then I don’t know what to tell you, man.”  
  
Josh simply stood facing the counter, shoulders shaking silently, and didn’t reply.  
  
“C’mere babe,” Matt said quietly.  
  
Josh looked at him then, distressed and pale, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. His breath came heavily in the quiet kitchen. Slowly, cautiously, Matt stretched out his hands, beckoning. Josh answered by stepping minutely closer, as if afraid Matt would disappear on contact. It was agonizing, watching such a brave person walk so hesitantly toward him, Matt thought, and his heart clenched. _It’s like he’s afraid I’m not real._  
  
With that thought, Matt had enough. He strode forward, exhaustion singing in his veins like adrenaline, and wrapped Josh in a full-body hug like he’d wanted to do ever since the plane had touched down. The singer made a noise of surprise but Matt felt the exact moment he gave in, body going loose and pliant in the embrace. He skated his hands up Josh’s sides, up his back to rest against the nape of his neck, fingers tangled in the short hairs there. Josh pressed his face into the juncture of Matt’s neck and shoulder; Matt could feel warm puffs of air against his neck. They stayed like that for a long moment, just breathing. Slowly, Matt felt Josh calm down, and he did the same, months’ worth of tension, stress, and worry bleeding out of his muscles now that Josh was in his arms.  
  
“All right, now?” Matt asked softly, turning his lips to Josh’s temple.  
  
Josh let out a shuddering breath and closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, he met Matt’s concerned gaze. “Better,” he said, and Matt nodded. Josh was being truthful and that was all he could ask for.  
  
“Okay,” he said, and yawned hugely. The last 43 hours were catching up with him. His legs suddenly felt like lead, and the very thought of climbing the stairs seemed to weigh on his bones. He dropped his head back onto Josh’s shoulder. “’M tired.”  
  
Josh huffed a laugh; Matt felt it ruffle his hair. “Yeah, I can see.” Matt didn’t respond except to nuzzle closer, breathing in the scent of Josh, comforting and familiar. “Matt…” Josh’s breath hitched on his name, and his fingers spasmed, digging into Matt’s back. But he continued, “C’mon, let’s go to bed.”  
  
“Mmnf,” Matt agreed, not moving.  
  
Josh sighed. “Matty, come on. I know you’re tired, but just up the stairs, okay? I’ll help you, come on.”  
  
Matt really didn’t want to move, especially when Josh was rubbing circles against his back like that, but when the singer nudged him, he went obligingly, shuffling to the stairs. It was a two-man effort getting to the top; Matt dragged himself up one step at a time, his arm around Josh’s shoulders. His joints protested at the abuse after hours of sitting motionless on a plane, and he must have made a noise because Josh rubbed one thumb across his knuckles soothingly. “Almost there, Matty.”  
  
When they reached the bedroom, it was all Matt could do to remain standing while Josh helped him out of his clothes. At last, clad only in a t-shirt and boxers, he stumbled over to the bed. Nestling beneath the familiar comforter, he could have cried; he’d been away for too long. He curled his legs in obligingly as Josh slipped under the covers and immediately clutched his hands, pulling him in. Their legs tangled together under the sheets, and Matt felt the last of the tension leave him. He was finally where he belonged, tangled together with Josh, pressed close enough to feel his heartbeat.  
  
Josh shifted to pull Matt closer in his arms. “’m sorry,” he said in a tiny voice. “For what I said. I didn’t mean it.”  
  
“Shhh,” Matt whispered, nuzzling closer. “I know. It’s okay.”  
  
He closed his eyes; and just as he slipped off into sleep, he felt Josh’s lips graze his forehead.  
  
“Welcome home, Matty.”


End file.
